Cafe Parody
by jisaly
Summary: Chapter 19 Up! Hector finds out too late about Patroclus' allergic reaction to peanuts and Cafe Parody and Andromache will pay the price in fire.
1. Default Chapter

CAFÉ PARODY-  
  
Paris- A junior at college, a shameless playboy, and an amateur trying to model.  
  
Briseis- Hector and Paris's cousin who's living with them and a junior at a private high school who's plans to become a nun.  
  
Priam- The owner of the successful coffeeshop, Café Troy.  
  
Hector- Priam's eldest son who's about to take on his father's job and not doing well at it.  
  
Andromache- Hector's wife and a teacher at Paris's college.  
  
Odysseus- The menacing tax collector.  
  
Helen- A world famous model who's trying to help Paris and the wife of Menelaus.  
  
Menelaus/Agamemnon- Agamemnon is the mayor of the city and Menelaus is a bank manager and they're brothers.  
  
Achilles- Does the dirty work for Agamemnon because he needs money to finish college.  
  
And now the real story...  
  
"Paris! GET UP!" Hector roared and started to make his way toward Paris's room. Glancing nervously at his watch, Hector flung open the door and immediately wished he hadn't.  
  
Paris was sitting on his bed with a girl on his lap, whispering into her ear. As soon as Hector stepped in, Paris jumped up and exclaimed with his hands up,  
  
"I didn't do it!"  
  
Hector was already running late on schedule so all he did was sharply say,  
  
"I want you down at the breakfast table in 5 minutes."  
  
"But I need at least 10 minutes for my hair!" Paris protested, but shut his mouth as soon as he saw the storm come over Hector's face.  
  
Hector rushed back downstairs where Andromache and Briseis were sitting at the breakfast table. Andromache gulped down a glass of milk and jumped up to give Hector a quick kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Gotta go," she said hurriedly and practically fled out the door as if something was chasing her. Hector looked down at his watch again and sighed. Yep, something was chasing all of them and that was time.  
  
Paris came running down the stairs and took one look at Briseis who was dressed in a wrinkle-free white blouse, a horrible, plaid wool skirt, white tights, and knee length boots.  
  
Paris shook his head at his cousin and said critically,  
  
"Please tell me you are not going to school in that."  
  
Briseis looked down at her uniform innocently and said,  
  
"But I have to wear this."  
  
"And I have to get you two out of here so I can open my café!" Hector interrupted and pushed them both out the door.  
  
"But this isn't your café," Paris pointed out, but the door slammed in their face.  
  
"Jerk," Paris grumbled and waved for a taxi.  
  
LATER-  
  
Hector was measuring a cup of sugar when a hand slammed down on his shoulder. He groaned when he saw who it was. Odysseus, the tax collector, was dressed in black trench coat that looked like it had been stolen from the set of the Matrix. Black sunglasses covered his eyes.  
  
"It's a good day for business," Odysseus remarked, looking around the café.  
  
"What do you want?" Hector demanded, not at all liking the way that Odysseus had strutted in like a mafia lord.  
  
"Money," Odysseus whispered. "Bills and the taxes you owe me."  
  
"And what if I don't give them to you?" Hector challenged.  
  
"Then I send Achilles," Odysseus threatened, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"And he'll do what?" Hector asked.  
  
"He'll tear every single little penny from your pockets," Odysseus hissed and whipping around with his trench coat, marched out the café. 


	2. If You Want To Be A Model Raise Your Han...

CAFÉ PARODY'S CHAPTER 2-  
  
IF YOU WANT TO BE A MODEL RAISE YOUR HANDS!  
  
Paris sat in his chair, fidgeting as he listened to his professor speak.  
  
"Usually, I would suggest a career for a student who actually has a brain," Professor Snooty remarked dryly. "But for you, I'm afraid that I can't."  
  
Paris blinked. "What did you say? I wasn't listening."  
  
Professor Snooty sighed and asked,  
  
"What is your major in college?"  
  
Design," Paris replied eagerly. "I absolutely loooove it."  
  
"Yes, but what kind of design?" Snooty asked impatiently.  
  
Paris blinked. He had definitely not been expecting that one. He bit his lip and wondered, 'Why is she also able to trick me on these kind of questions?'  
  
"I major in the kind of design where you draw clothes," Paris said slowly, remembering sketching out a gorgeous silk gown in class.  
  
Snooty hit her forehead with her palm and wondered, 'Who accepted this idiot into college?' She sat up and glared at Paris as if accusing him for giving her a headache. He just sat there, looking at her blankly.  
  
"GET OUT!" she exploded. "Get out of this college and never come back because you will never become a fashion designer. NEVER!"  
  
Normally, Professor Snooty had noted as a pretty sane and patient professor, a professor that would never scream at her students, but Paris had driven her to the brink. She jumped up with a mad glint in her dilated pupils and threw her coffee mug at Paris. She missed, but it was enough to send Paris running out the room and timidly close the door behind him.  
  
"Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," Paris mused and quickly took off before Snooty could fling open the door and throw another coffee mug at him.  
  
On his way to his locker, Paris noticed another guy coming his way. It was Patroclus, an eager, inexperienced blond junior that was usually hanging around at the side of his cousin Achilles. Paris shuddered at the very thought of the name. Achilles was the terror of most kids at the college excluding girls of course. To Paris who had been born a natural playboy, Achilles posed as his greatest rival. Girls went to him so it would help their reputation only. Surprisingly, Patroclus was alone.  
  
Patroclus was talking to someone on his cellphone is hushed whispers. Paris hardly ever eavesdropped, but couldn't help it once he heard Patroclus say,  
  
"Café Troy? That one owned by that old man and his son Hector? Yep, we'll be there after our classes are over. Don't worry, Achilles never fails."  
  
Paris raised his eyebrows. His instincts told him that something big was going to happen.  
  
LATER-  
  
"WHAT?!" Briseis spun around to gape at Paris. "How could you just like drop out of college like that?"  
  
Paris shrugged. "Hey, I didn't drop out. I was kicked out."  
  
Briseis shook her head. "You know what? I think I'll let Hector yell at you for this one."  
  
Paris wasn't listening. His attention was completely captured by a poster on the window of a salon. The poster showed the photo of an extraordinarily beautiful blond and below the photo, it said:  
  
Helen Kruger will be holding auditions for young models at the sorority house at 687 Cygnus Circle.  
  
"That's it!" Paris exclaimed. "Hector doesn't have to know that I was kicked out. I'll do this audition thing and he'll think that I dropped out so I could have the job!"  
  
Briseis looked at the poster skeptically. "You're going to become a model?"  
  
Paris grabbed her hand. "Wanta join me in the quest?"  
  
EVEN LATER-  
  
They stood outside a sorority house that looked more like an Italian villa with Gothic arches and marble columns. There was a wide stretch of a lush, green lawn that had a fountain with two mermaids frolicking in the water. Standing outside the doorway and feeling stupid, Paris rang the bell once, twice, and was about to knock the door down when it opened.  
  
A petite teen stood in the doorway, her caramel hair spilling down past her shoulders. She had very wide, dark eyes that widened even more at the sight of Paris and Briseis. Slowly, a hesitant half smile reached her lips.  
  
"Here for the auditions, right?" she asked.  
  
She didn't wait for an answer and waved for them to come in, saying.  
  
"I know you're here for the audition. My name's Cassandra by the way."  
  
They walked in, unsure of what to expect. The inside of the house was just as gorgeous as the outside. An ornate black iron railing lined a curving marble staircase in front of them and just then, the woman whose face was on the poster, came walking down the staircase, smiling at them.  
  
Her smile was perfect, too perfect. It showed no joy, no emotion yet it made Paris want to leap up and kiss her hand and do anything to keep that smile on her face. She was a flawless vision in designer silk and as soon as she set her blue-green eyes on Paris, her eyes brightened with interest.  
  
Trailing behind her was a whole flock of people, eager and hopeful. The woman just waved her hand for silence and in a single second, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.  
  
"Thank you," the woman said, smiling like a smug pussy cat, knowing her power over them. "My name is Helen Kruger and if you want to be a model, raise your hand so I know you're at the right place!"  
  
A few dozen hands flew up, not including Paris's.  
  
Helen looked at him curiously and asked loudly,  
  
"Are you in the right place?"  
  
Everyone turned to look at Paris who wasn't a trifle intimidated. He looked her in the eye and replied confidently,  
  
"I don't want to be a model. I have to because of my good looks."  
  
Helen stared and then, snickered. She threw back her head and laughed out loud. Pointing at him, Helen said as her eyes sparkled,  
  
"I like you."  
  
She turned to all the others and said carelessly,  
  
"You can all go home now."  
  
A couple of people burst out crying right there, but Briseis just shrugged and whispered to Paris,  
  
"Good luck, Mr. Good Looks."  
  
As soon as all the people had filed out, the doors slammed shut behind them and Cassandra locked the doors with a key that she slid into her pocket. Paris watched her move nervously. He had not been expecting this.  
  
Helen examined him for a moment and then murmured,  
  
"Follow me."  
  
And then she swaggered off, her hips swaying and the skirt of her dress swishing. 


	3. Falling Answer Machines

FALLING ANSWER MACHINES-  
  
"Paris dropped out of college," Briseis reported after Hector asked her where Paris was.  
  
"HE WHAT?"  
  
"Oh no, that's not correct," Briseis murmured. "He was "kicked" out of college."  
  
Hector's fist tightened around the jam tart he was holding and jelly exploded over his fingers.  
  
"And where is Paris now?" Hector asked through his gritted teeth.  
  
Briseis laughed and replied, "He's off to become a model."  
  
Hector sighed and muttered something that sounded vaguely like, "When he gets home..."  
  
Looking down at the answer machine curiously, Briseis noticed that there were exactly 100 messages all from the same person. She pressed a button and began to listen to the messages. They were all from some man who repeated the same message over and over again in a monotone voice.  
  
"You owe me, you owe me, you owe me," the answer machine squeaked repeatedly.  
  
Hector glanced at it and without a word, ripped the machine from its wires and threw it in a trash bag. After a silent moment, a voice reached their ears.  
  
"You owe me, you owe me, you owe me."  
  
Hector didn't even look up from his newspaper. "Pulverize the thing."  
  
Briseis carefully removed the answer machine from banana peels and crushed soda cans and threw it out their café window. Their café, Café Troy, was located on the fifth floor of some skyscraper and she hoped that no one would get a concussion from a falling answer machine.  
  
A minute later, a guy stormed into the café, a threatening glower on his face. He held a squealing answer machine in his fist. Marching right up to the counter where Briseis was working, he slammed the machine down in front of her and said quite calmly,  
  
"You threw an answer machine at my head."  
  
Briseis didn't bother to look up. "So sue me."  
  
The guy was boiling with fury now. She could practically feel red, hot anger radiating around his body.  
  
"And what if I threw an answer machine at your head?"  
  
Briseis looked up and stared the stranger in the eye. His eyes were a clear, pure blue, now narrowed to slits. 'He probably can't stand the fact that I ruined his perfect golden hair,' Briseis thought as she looked as his now matted hair.  
  
"First of all, how the heck do you know that "I" threw that thing?" Briseis demanded and then she pointed at Hector with an accusing finger. "How do you know that he didn't throw it?"  
  
"Second of all, I did not mean to hit you on your precious little head," Briseis continued. "And finally, if you dare throw that thing at me, I will throw this coffee pot at you!" She snatched up the boiling coffee pot and waved it in front of his face.  
  
For a moment, the guy stared at her, wide-eyed, but as if he were shocked that anyone would dare talk to him in such a way. Then, he burst out laughing. Briseis bit her lip and without a moment's hesitation, splashed a quart of sizzling coffee at the guy's shirt.  
  
Just then, Paris swaggered in and as soon as he saw the stranger, he yelled,  
  
"No, please don't hurt me, Achilles!" 


	4. So Sue Me

SO SUE ME-  
  
Paris had fallen on his back, shielding his face with his lifted hands. His deep, dark brown eyes glanced at Achilles nervously as if he were expecting the guy to pounce on him. Briseis sighed and snapped,  
  
"Get up!"  
  
Paris didn't move.  
  
"I'm not going to throttle you now," Achilles growled in a low voice. "Though I may do it later."  
  
Briseis glared at him. Who the heck did this guy think he was? 'How dare he just walk in here and threaten us as if he ruled this planet?' Briseis thought angrily.'  
  
"Remember when you said, 'so sue me?'" Achilles demanded. "Well, I'll be seeing you in court."  
  
And with that, he stormed out of the café like a tornado. Briseis still stood behind the counter, frozen. Could he really sue her?  
  
"I don't even have a lawyer!" she yelled after him.  
  
Suddenly, Hector charged into the room and as soon as he set his eyes on Paris, he pointed an accusing finger at him and growled,  
  
"You..."  
  
Paris offered a shrug and a smile before backing away to run up the stairs.  
  
"Not so fast, little bro," Hector snarled and pointing at a plush, red sofa right in front of him, ordered Paris to sit.  
  
"So," Hector said calmly. "So the little boy thinks he can just drop out of college without telling his brother who's paying for his every whim? So tell me, Paris, how should the brother punish the little boy?"  
  
Paris blinked. "What little boy?"  
  
Hector's fist slammed down on the coffee table, making the mugs jump.  
  
"I have four words for you," Hector hissed. "You are so busted."  
  
Paris jerked his head to look at Briseis in a disbelieving way.  
  
"You tattletale! I told you that I would tell him myself!"  
  
"And when were you planning to tell me?" Hector demanded, marching around Paris and rubbing his chin.  
  
Paris shrugged. "Someday."  
  
Then, seeing the rather insane look on Hector's already red face, Paris said quickly, "But I got a job, as a model. This supermodel lady thought I was cute so she gave me the job..."  
  
Hector had rushed upstairs and Paris and Briseis chased after him to find him in Paris's bedroom, wreaking chaos. Hector was tearing off posters, ripping out Paris's personal phone, and disconnecting Paris's laptop.  
  
"This," Hector said, indicating the drooping phone. "This is a luxury as are all these other stuff. Since you have a job, you can pay for these luxuries from now on. When you earn up to oh, maybe 500 bucks, I'll give you your stuff back."  
  
Paris's jaw dropped open and his mouth moved as if he were trying to say something.  
  
"You... you... can't do that!" Paris stammered, flailing his arms.  
  
"Just watch me," Hector replied shortly.  
  
And Paris had to watch as Hector deposited all the stuff into the trash bag with a light "Ooops!" Paris rubbed his hands together. 'Just you wait, Hector,' Paris thought. 'The next time you'll see me is when you see me on a runway and people will be pouring money over me!'  
  
THE NEXT DAY-  
  
"He's actually going through with this!" Briseis exclaimed, her cheeks flushed an angry red.  
  
She flung a letter at Paris's face and recited from memory,  
  
"To Briseis, you are being sued by a young man who claims that you gave him a near concussion by throwing an answer machine on his head. Please appear at the Spartan Courthouse blah, blah, blah!"  
  
Paris examined the paper closely. "Am I missing something or do I just not see the blah, blah, blah part?"  
  
Briseis squeezed her fists and bit her lip to control herself from not throwing another answer machine at Paris's head. "Maybe I need glasses," Paris murmured absentmindedly.  
  
"Don't you care that that psycho classmate of yours is suing me?" Briseis demanded hotly. "Just for hitting him on the head? I mean, come on! How mad could it be? A little bump on his perfect, golden hair?"  
  
"Well, if you ruined my hairstyle with a bump on the head, I would sue you," Paris said.  
  
Briseis was about to retort, 'So sue me,' but then she remembered that she had said just that to that Achilles and he had taken her seriously.  
  
"Me and my big mouth," she muttered and got ready for school. 


	5. Revenge of the Soontobe Nun

REVENGE OF THE SOON-TO-BE NUN-

"Young lady, did you hear me? I told you that I needed to talk to you privately!"

Mother Elizabeth exclaimed, rapping her ruler on Briseis's desk.

The 17-year old wasn't exactly dying to have a talk with Mother Elizabeth who had once scolded her for asking to go to the bathroom.

Briseis remembered that Mother Elizabeth had demanded, "Is relief from suffering more important than the Lord's words?"

Briseis had wanted to retort, "Yes! Right now it is!"

Following the elderly nun into a private office, Briseis glumly sat down in a stiff wooden chair that creaked and groaned every time she moved. For a moment, Mother Elizabeth eyed the chair and Briseis in annoyance. Then, she slammed her ruler down on the back of the chair and barked,

"Young ladies never slouch!"

Briseis stole a glance at the Mother who herself was slouching so much; she looked as if she were bending over to pick up something from the ground.

"You wish to become a nun? Yes? You wish to swear your life and love to the Lord and only to the Lord?" the Mother asked, looking carefully at Briseis while rubbing her chin.

Briseis nodded slowly and concentrated on the Mother's inch-long fingernails that had yellow, jagged tips. Forcing a smile onto her face, Briseis tried to look sincere.

"Then, why did you throw yourself into a violent passion and give an innocent man a concussion?" Mother Elizabeth howled.

"Who told you that lie?" Briseis asked, stunned.

"Your cousin," the nun replied triumphantly as if that proved that it was not a lie.

"Hector?" Briseis demanded.

"No, not him," the nun said, waving her hand in the air and nearly poking Briseis's eye out. "The cute one. The one named Paris."

HELEN'S HOT SPOT-

As Paris paced in front of the supermodel's boutique, he muttered repeatedly to himself,

"Act suave, act suave."

"But I like you the way you are."

Paris jumped as he heard her deep, melodious voice and clenched his shaking hands as he turned to face her.

"You have such a cute grin!" Helen cooed and grabbing his cheek, squeezed it soundly.

"Thanks," Paris whispered breathlessly and looked at her little half-smile. "And you have such... such luscious lips!"

Helen's perfectly arched eyebrows shot up as her smile faded. For a moment, they stared at each other while avoiding the other's stare. Helen scratched her head and mused, 'It's so sad that such a cute boy toy is so dull.'

Paris kept on shrugging to himself and muttering bizarre words that sounded like "suave" and "hot" until finally, he said,

"Can you please make me a model or my brother's going to rip me apart?"

Luckily, Helen didn't have to answer the question as her cell phone rang and she excused herself.

"Listen to me very carefully," a very young, desperate voice murmured from the phone. "You are in immense danger right now."

"Really?" Helen squeaked, immediately worried.

"Unless you're not frightened by cute-looking psychos, you're in danger," the voice whispered.

"Oh, phew," Helen sighed. "I was almost going to get a worry wrinkle."

"Is there not a young man with curly brown hair, dreamy eyes, and an annoying personality at your boutique?" the voice inquired.

"How did you know? Are you a fortune teller?" Helen asked suspiciously.

"No, but you must get away from that young man immediately," the voice insisted. "He has just escaped from a mental asylum and he is carrying an extremely large butcher knife with him right now."

"Oh, thank you for warning me," Helen whispered back and hanged up.

And after Helen hanged up, Briseis who had been whispering into a pay phone to the model, burst out laughing and after screaming out a "Yes!" she danced out and handed the phone to a man who had been waiting impatiently for ten minutes. Their eyes met and suddenly, she let out a scream.

It was Achilles.


	6. Psychos and Phones

PSYCHOS AND PHONES-

For a moment, Briseis thought that she was hallucinating. As if she were in a dream, her arm slowly stretched out and her hand brushed against Achilles' cheek to see if he really was real. He felt real for sure.

Achilles raised his eyebrows at this surprising gesture and said slowly,

"Youuuuu..."

"What about me?" Briseis snapped suddenly, red, hot anger blooming in her cheeks again.

And suddenly, she was in full rage.

"Why the heck are you suing me? Do you know how much trouble you've gotten me into?" She pushed him with all her strength. "And you thought that answer machine hurt? Well, buddy, taste some real pain!"

Briseis pulled the phone over to clobber Achilles on the head and all of sudden, she heard a "snap!" and she realized that she had ripped the phone off the rest of the machine. Holding up the silent phone, she looked back gloomily at its cradle and wondered why she was always breaking things.

"You were saying?" Achilles challenged, now smirking smugly at the sad looking phone.

Without hesitation, Briseis threw it at him and fled.

BACK TO HELEN'S HOT SPOT-

As soon as Helen hanged up the phone, she suddenly wished she hadn't. What the heck was she supposed to do now? Sneak out of her own boutique?

'Sneak out of my own boutique,' Helen mused. 'I didn't know I could be so imaginative.'

Patting herself on the back for her own creative mind, she grabbed her handbag and turned around to find... Paris.

"AHHHHHHH!"

Helen stepped backwards and snatched up the only weapon she could find: A blow dryer.

"Don't scare me like that!" she whispered in a shaky voice.

"Ok, I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands and heading for her.

"Stay back!" Helen exclaimed, whipping out the blow dryer. "Stay back, you... psycho!"

Paris scratched his head. Was this supposed to be some kind of a test that he had to pass to become a model? Did she expect him to fight back? He looked around and seized a tall bottle of raspberry-flavored hairspray, which only made Helen's eyes widen even more.

"Are you... you going to kill me?" Helen squeaked. "With my own hairspray?"

"Uh, no," Paris chuckled. "I'm here to become a model. Remember?"

Just to help her remember, he struck a pose while spraying the hairspray all over his curly hair. A bit of it got on his lip and he licked it.

"Hmmm... raspberry," he grinned. "Do you want some?"

Helen looked at his outstretched hand that held the hairspray bottle. Then, she knocked it away and shoving him out of her way, Helen ran from the room after saying loudly,

"You're fired!"

CAFÉ TROY-

To Andromache, home, sweet home wasn't exactly a sweet home. A few years back, they had all lived in a huge, spread out ranch house on the suburbs of New York City. Now, they lived in a miniature apartment right above the coffee shop so Hector could get the work earlier.

The apartment had only 3 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom and the rent was still mind-blowing every month.

To get into the apartment meant that you would have to go into the café first and to enter Café Troy, you would either have to buy something or Hector would tie an apron around your waist and start ordering you around.

And that was exactly what Hector did. He sneaked up behind Andromache and secured a frilly, bubble-gum pink apron around her waist before handing her a list of instructions that stated:

Make coffee because I don't how to.

Feed people for money in return.

Warn me if a persistent tax collector enters the building.

Andromache stared at number three.

"Hector," Andromache said slowly. "How much money do we have in our piggy bank?"

Hector sighed gloomily and took out the piggy bank from underneath his jacket. Turning it upside down, he dumped out what was inside onto the counter. There were only a few crumpled bills and a bunch of rusty coins. Andromache's heart sank as she counted. The total was only about $80 and there was only a bit more in the cash register.

"We're doomed," Hector groaned. "Doomed, I tell you!"

"No, we're not!"

Briseis and Paris were both standing in the doorway where they had been listening.

"Paris and I thought of an idea," Briseis said quickly. "This way, he can pay back whatever he owes you and he can improve the café's business."

Paris continued for her. "Well, you know how I like girls and how girls like me?"

Hector glowered at him.

"Well, anyway," Paris rushed on. "I could be an advertisement. We'll attract girl customers with me. I'll give them a kiss on the cheek in exchange for them buying something worth a dollar. They get two kisses for two dollars."

"We've already made a sign!" Briseis exclaimed and Paris and her held up a huge piece of cardboard that shouted in bright purple letters:

ATTENTION TO ALL THE YOUNG LADIES OUT THERE:

BUY A PIECE OF SOMETHING WORTH A $1 TO GET A KISS FROM THIS YOUNG MAN HERE.

YOU GET TWO KISSES FOR $2 WORTH!

NOTE: THE YOUNG MAN PREFERS YOUNG WOMEN AND NOT OLD ONES.

At first, Hector felt ready to burst out laughing, but it was desperate times and desperate times call for desperate ways.

"You start work tomorrow," Hector said gruffly.


	7. Smooch Pooch

SMOOCH POOCH-

As soon as the free kisses sign appeared over Paris's head, a stampede of girls trampled their way over to him.

With the air of a dashing gentleman, Paris placed a light kiss on the cheek of each girl while grinning in anticipation for the next.

Unfortunately, the next in line turned out to be a very short, wrinkled grandma who only came up to Paris's shoulder.

"Hello, handsome," the old lady cackled. "I'm ready for some loving!"

Paris's smile stretched to the very limits of his face as he whispered under his breath to Hector,

"Save me! She's closer to you in age so why don't you kiss her?"

Hector took a huge step back and gave Paris a horrified look.

"But I have a wife and she would not take well to seeing me kiss old ladies from the street," Hector excused himself and rushed away to count the money they were earning.

Groaning inwardly, Paris could not help, but notice every sagging wrinkle of the old granny's face as she leaned in toward him. 'Whoa!' Paris thought as he bended back and away. 'Look at that piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth! It must have been stuck in there for ages! Has this woman never heard of a toothpick?'

Cringing with a strained smile, Paris awkwardly bumped his cheek against the elderly woman's cheek and let out a big sigh once it was done.

"Ah, give us a real kiss now, ya little smooch pooch!" the aged woman growled and grabbing Paris by the soft flesh of his cheek slammed his lips against her face.

"I feel young again!" she declared and as she bought a slice of thick sponge cake, demanded,

"You smooch pooch! Will ya be here again on Monday?"

Paris's only reply sounded like the dying breaths of a strangled man.

"Don't you worry, madem!" Hector interrupted. "He'll be here if you're here to buy another cake."

The ancient crone rubbed her chin and slamming her bony, frail fist down on the counter, declared,

"Done! But you make sure that the boy works on his kissing!"

"What am I? A chicken for you to sell on the market?" Paris sputtered in indignation as soon as the woman was out of the café.

"No," Hector replied. "You're a smooch pooch for me to sell on the ladies' market."

Paris muttered something that sounded awfully grumpy and stomped out of the place, making his way to a nearby florist shop. Wondering whether he should buy red roses or white roses, Paris finally settled on a budding bouquet of sweet smelling, pink roses and handed the seller all he had in his pocket: $1.

The owner of the place took one look at the money and snatched the roses back, handing Paris only one slender, drooping rose.

Paris marched himself to Helen's boutique and once he was there, he was suddenly unsure of what to do. He could clearly see Helen in the boutique, but there was another man standing beside her, and he was clearly a man Helen knew well.

And just then, Helen looked out of the window of her salon and met the wide, confused eyes of Paris. For a moment, she wasn't sure if she wanted to call the police or not, but then, she gently pushed her husband's advances away and opening the door, called out,

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?"

Paris blinked and looking uncomfortable, walked in to face the disproving glower of the other man.

"Paris, this is my husband, Menelaus," Helen spoke quietly, her eyes downcast and avoiding his.

"This another one of your pretty, model boys, sweetie?" Menelaus demanded of Helen.

"Yes," Helen responded, suddenly meek and easy to bend. "He's the one I'm asking you to sponsor."

Paris looked at Helen, bewildered.

"You don't think I'm a psych..." he began, hope overflowing his voice.

Helen held a finger to her lips. "No, I think you're perfect for the job."

Menelaus shrugged and got up. "Fine, but if he don't do well, I'm going to have to get my money back."

Menelaus left the boutique and left Helen and Paris alone in awkward silence.

"What happened yesterday with me thinking that you were going to kill me was...silly," Helen admitted, a crimson blush brightening her sudden paleness. "Someone called today and confessed that all the lies they had told me yesterday were plain nonsense to get back at you for something."

"Who would do something like that?" Paris wondered angrily. "Who would that kind of revenge at me? I don't remember offending anyone recently."

Helen offered a weak smile. "Someone closer than you think."


	8. A Declaration of Undying Love

A DECLARATION OF UNDYING LOVE-

"Big bro," Paris began, slapping Hector on the back. "You love me, right?"

Hector gazed at him suspiciously. "That depends on what you're about to say next."

Paris laughed weakly and flashing Hector his most innocent, little-boy smile, stammered,

"I'minlovewithmyboss!"

Hector gave Paris the 'huh?' look and said very slowly,

"Now calm down. Whatever you have to say can be said in English, right?"

Paris took a deep breath and repeated,

"I'm in love with my boss who's married to the man who's kinda your boss and since I'm going to ask her if she wants to leave her husband for me tonight, I was just wondering if that was okay with you. I mean, her husband might not like you so much after that."

Immersed by the swirls of white cream in his thick coffee, Hector murmured a careless,

"Yep, that's ok with me."

Paris grinned and wrapped Hector in a quick bear hug.

"You're the best big brother ever!" he cried and ran off.

A moment later, Hector's mind played Paris's words over again and Hector finally realized what Paris had been telling him. He dropped his coffee mug and it broke into countless shards, spilling boiling hot, dark coffee all over Andromache's favorite rug.

"PARIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

HELEN'S HOT SPOT-

Helen was busy planning her own kind of an 'Extreme Makeover' show when her phone rang. She picked it up only to hear the desperate sputtering of some man.

"My brother...he's...he's coming for you!" the man exclaimed.

Wondering why she was the one suffering all these phone calls from crazy people, Helen demanded,

"Who the heck are you?!"

"I'm his brother!" was the only reply.

"Yes, I know that," Helen said impatiently. "But whose brother?"

"I'm Paris's brother, Hector," Hector responded. "And Paris is coming to your salon right now to tell you that he's in love with you and he wants you to leave your husband for him."

"It's a boutique, not a salon," Helen reminded him sharply. "And Paris is going to do – what?!"

"He's head over heels over you and he wants you to leave your husband for him even though he knows that this is going to cause your husband to try to make my business go down the drain," Hector repeated rapidly. "And he knows that you are most certainly not worth my business going down the drain."

"Are you insulting my good looks?" Helen asked doubtfully. "Because I have a face that's beyond your dreams of obtaining!"

Hector snorted. "Fine, I wouldn't want to be a woman anyway."

"Now listen," he said. "No matter what he says or how much he tries to make you swoon with his declaration of undying love, do not listen to him!"

Just then, Paris burst into the boutique and announced dramatically,

"Helen, my darling! I am ready to declare my declaration of undying love!"

Helen gave him a patronizing smile and whispered,

"Fine, Paris, my...darling. Just sit down and be quiet for a sec."

Then she whispered to Hector through the phone,

"Don't worry, I got everything under control."

She left the phone sitting on a table and jumped back when Paris got down to one knee at her feet. He beat his chest with one fist and whispered,

"You're too good for me and I know it, but I can't help but love you and I will love you truly forever. Helen, will you elope with me?"

Helen's eyes widened as she muttered,

"Gee, that was a bit cheesy, but..."

She took one look at Paris's desperately humble face that made him look as if he would kill himself if she said no and then, she threw her arms around him.

"Oh, Paris, I thought you would never ask!"

And because Helen had forgotten to hang up the phone, Hector was listening to their every word on the other line.


	9. Crimes Caught

CRIMES CAUGHT-

When Andromache came home that night, she immediately knew that something was wrong. Perhaps it was because she noticed that Hector was frozen at the counter with his hand squeezing the phone and that he never budged an inch after a good ten minutes. Finally, she went up to tap her husband lightly on the shoulder and whispered,

"Boo!"

Hector jumped and blinked rapidly as if he had just woken up from a trance. He looked at her, dazed for a moment, and then growled,

"Is Paris home yet?"

Andromache shook her head. "Nope, he called to say that he was going to be staying at a friend's house today."

Hector groaned and pushing the redial button on the phone, he prayed desperately for someone, anyone to answer.

"Hello?" a gruff, grumpy voice bellowed from the other line.

Hector was taken aback. 'That's not Helen,' he decided. 'And Paris definitely does not sound like that so it must be...'

Hector trembled suddenly. It could only be Menelaus, Helen's husband and the guy that Hector owed a lot of cash to.

"Hello Menelaus," Hector replied slowly. "I was wondering if my brother, Paris, is at your salon by any chance?"

"It's a boutique, not a salon," Menelaus growled back. "And it belongs to my wife who has been gone for the whole evening. Would you by any chance know where she would be?"

Hector wondered what he was supposed to say. 'She's probably planning with my brother to run away from you, but I can't give you a specific location?' Hector mused.

"No, I have no idea where Helen could ever be," Hector responded quickly. "No idea at all."

And with that, he quickly slammed the phone back into its cradle and began to wonder if he could book a flight to Antarctica as soon as possible.

THE SPARTAN COURTHOUSE OF GREEK JUSTICE-

Briseis felt more and more tiny as she entered the colossal courthouse with its pillars that seemed to touch the sky and its bloated judges that sat far above her. She had made her mind to be responsible and go to the courthouse only because she wanted to make sure that no one would ever think of her as a nun who dropped stuff on your head again.

"Um...excuse me?" Briseis asked a secretary quietly. "I'm here for a trial?"

The secretary looked at Briseis with a raised eyebrow. "What could a harmless little thing like you do?"

Briseis shrugged. "I dropped an answer machine on someone's head."

As soon as she spoke those words, everyone in the room became gave a sharp gasp and became stonily silent. The secretary pushed her swivel chair as far as away from Briseis as she could and shrieked into her earphone,

"Security! We have a bomb dropper in building 6!"

Immediately, a team of four armed men who looked as if they were professional bodybuilders rushed in and started searching her for weapons.

"Hey!" Briseis cried. "Stop...groping!"

Once they were sure that she was clean, they grabbed her by the arm and escorted her to another room where a judge sat, stroking his long, long white beard.

Briseis sat down in one miniature cubicle only to face a smirking Achilles that was sitting in another cubicle across form her. 'He knows he's going to win this thing,' Briseis realized, her heart sinking. 'And then he's going to make sure they label me a 'bomb dropper.''

"Young lady," the judge said, peering down at her with narrowed eyes. "Did you know that in the state of New York, it is a most serious crime to drop anything heavier than an apple out of high window?"

Briseis bit her lip and focused her eyes from Achilles to the judge's nametag which read, Nestor.

"Well," she began slowly, buying time. "Well, Nestor, is there any proof that I was the one who dropped something on this man's head?"

Nestor frowned and threw a folder down on the desk before her. "Inside are photos of a girl who was seen clearly dropping answer machines on people's heads. There is also a photo of her ripping a public phone off its machine."

Briseis gulped and glared at Achilles fiercely.

"And of all people, it is you who was going to become a nun," Nestor said. "It is a nun who has decided on violence instead of peace. So tell me, why, why did you choose to do such a thing? Are you depressed?"

"Clearly, she does have some type of a mental illness," Achilles spoke up. "I mean, who has ever heard of a nun trying to give someone a concussion?"

Briseis had had enough. "Ok, first of all, I am not crazy!" she exclaimed angrily. "I was just not thinking at the time and I didn't realize that the answer machine was going to hit someone!"

"Of course you didn't," Nestor said kindly, humoring her like he would do to a child. "Now I'm just going to contact your guardian and prescribe some antidepressants, ok?"

Briseis felt like retorting, 'No, it's not ok!' and then strangling Achilles' neck, but she nodded and decided that revenge would always be sweeter later.

HELEN'S MANSION-

Helen and Paris were both lying on the living room carpet, nuzzling each other as they watched the tv.

"Paris," Helen suddenly said. "Don't you think that your brother will be upset if I come to your house to stay? I mean, he owes a lot to Menelaus."

"Who, Hector?" Paris asked. "Nah, he's cool. He won't mind at all.'

Then, Helen pointed to the tv. "Darling, isn't that your cousin?"

Paris looked up and his eyes widened. It was Briseis, looking meek and timid in a courtroom.

"Yeah, but what the heck is she doing on tv? I mean, I went to a bunch of tv auditions and they never put me on screen!" Paris whined.

Helen shrugged. "Well, maybe they think that she's prettier than you."

Paris looked disbelieving. "Yeah, right, but I'm going to call Hector and tell him. He'll be so proud!"

Paris grabbed the phone and started dialing only to hear the bellow of one enraged big brother.

"PARISSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!"


	10. Husband Support

HUSBAND SUPPORT-

"Hector, my favorite big bro!" Paris cried. "Guess what?"

Hector was really not in the mood to play guess what jokes so he growled,

"Don't change the subject! You are in big, BIG trouble, little brother."

Paris blinked. "Okay, but guess what? Helen and I were just watching tv and we saw -,"

"HELEN?!" Hector shouted. "Helen?! Like in Helen, the wife of Menelaus?"

"Yep," Paris replied, wondering if they knew anyone else named Helen. "So anyway, we were watching tv and we saw Briseis on the screen! At first, I was kinda freaked out because she gets to be on tv and I don't, but then I felt really happy for her. Aren't you excited that she's on tv?"

"What channel was Briseis on?" Hector asked slowly.

"Um..." Paris had a very short-term memory, but he remembered something about a law and order channel. "Well, she was on some channel with a judge and I think it was called People's Court: Spartan Style."

Hector groaned and wondered why the heck would Briseis of all people be in court.

"Listen, Paris, just stay where you are. I'm going to come over so tell me your address."

"I can't," Paris said quietly.

"And why not?" Hector demanded.

"Because then you're going to try to stop Helen from running away with me," Paris said simply. "And she's going to listen to you and not me for some weird reason so stay away from my woman!"

"I don't want her!" Hector hissed. "I just want to return her to her rightful husband!"

"Yeah, well I'm going to become her husband soon!" Paris sniffed. "I even bought her a ring from the Dollar Store!"

"Paris, just give her up!" Hector exclaimed, exasperated. "You'll find a new one soon enough."

"No, I won't," Paris insisted. "She's special and you can stop telling what to do! If you won't support me, then I'll support myself!"

And with that, Hector heard a beep and thought that Paris had hung up. Then, a sullen voice asked again,

"But can I borrow $20?"

THE SPARTAN COURTHOUSE OF GREEK JUSTICE-

As Briseis started to walk out of the courthouse, she stared glumly at the bottle of pills she held in her fist. 'Stupid pills,' she thought angrily and without a thought, threw it as far away as she could.

And as she watched them fall down, her pleasure turned into horror as she realized that the pills were going to hit not the ground, but someone's precious head.

Achilles looked at her with annoyance and said dryly,

"Do you want me to sue you again?"

She bit her lip to silence her retort and walked away quickly before she could get into any more trouble. She had been humiliated, but she was not going to let him see that. As she hurried away, she felt a hand brush by her jacket pocket and when she reached inside the pocket, she found the bottle of pills, but Achilles had disappeared.

But a gleaming golden Toyota had pulled up in front of her and Hector got out of the car, his face dark and forbidding.

He took one look at the pills in her hand and barked,

"I would think that a court trial would teach you not to use drugs and yet you open a bottle of them as soon as you walk out!"

"Hector, these aren't drugs," Briseis explained. "These are antidepressant pills that the judge gave me because he thinks I'm depressed and going insane."

Hector blinked. "You're depressed? Why didn't you tell me?"

Briseis sighed. "It's a long story. I'll tell you in the car."

And as they got in the car and drove away, they didn't notice the tracking device blinking red under the car.

CAFÉ TROY-

When Hector and Briseis walked into the café, the people they least wanted to see greeted them. A sullen Menelaus, a cruelly smiling Agamemnon, and a bored looking Achilles stood in the coffeehouse, all staring at Hector with narrowed eyes.

"Hector!" Agamemnon roared and stepped forward to give Hector a quick bear hug. "Can you guess what has happened with my brother's wife, Helen?"

Panicking, Hector dodged Agamemnon's arms and quickly replied,

"I had nothing to do with it!"

Menelaus looked up at him and snarled,

"Of course you didn't because then I would ripping off your limbs right now!"

Then, he turned teary-eyed and sobbed,

"My little munchkin locked me out of my own house!"

Menelaus turned to Agamemnon and started bawling into his brother's brand new fur coat.

"There, there!" Agamemnon comforted him. "I always said she was too good for you."

Menelaus looked at him.

"I meant to say that she was always no good!" Agamemnon lied.

"But why did you come to me?" Hector interrupted. "What do I have to do with this?"

"Menelaus seems to think that you can talk some sense into Helen," Agamemnon explained. "So as a favor to us, Hector, please try to talk to her. If you succeed, we shall take $500 away from your debt."

Hector wondered if Agamemnon was plotting as he watched the hairy mayor flash a conniving smile as if he knew about Paris and Helen.

"Sure, I'll do it," Hector said with a strained smile. "We husbands must stick together!"

And then, he wondered, how the heck was he going to tell Helen to unlock her doors.


	11. Creamcake

CREAMCAKE-

As Hector drove closer and closer toward Helen's private estate, he began to feel his heart sinking lower and lower. 'It's a lose-lose situation,' he thought. 'If I don't bring Helen back to Menelaus, Agamemnon will butcher me and if I do bring Helen back, Paris will never forgive me.'

He stopped in front of a locked iron gate and noticed that the gate's nosy security camera had swiveled around to focus in on him.

"Uh Helen," Hector said, speaking to the camera. "This is Hector, Paris's brother. Remember me?"

"Hector?" Helen's voice asked from the camera. "You're not that Hector who told me not to -,"

And then, Hector could hear Paris's voice in the backround.

"Helen!" Paris was saying. "Is that the pizza guy? Tell him we're not going to pay him because I'm broke and he's an hour late."

"Actually," Hector remarked. "I am that Hector who told you not to have anything to do with my brother and yet I can hear his voice in the backround. Isn't that strange?"

"Are you threatening me?" Helen snapped.

"Yes, I am," Hector replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Oh," Helen said cheerfully. "Well then you can come in right away!"

The gate swung open and Hector stormed through and past the door of the mansion. Just then, he heard Helen's voice, low and seductive.

"Hector, we're in the bedroom," she nearly moaned.

Hector raised his eyebrows and wondered if it was time to retreat. Gingerly, he walked up the grand staircase of polished oak and edged toward a room with an open door. It was also where all the moans and groans were coming from.

"Aren't you coming in?" Helen questioned from inside the bedroom.

Hector shut his eyes as he entered and asked blindly,

"Um...is there any chance that I can just grab Paris and leave?"

"Why are you closing your eyes, Hector?" Paris's voice asked.

Hector opened his eyes slowly and realized in relief that both Helen and Paris were clothed in very sober clothes and merely sitting next to each other on the bed, watching the tv in front of them. Suddenly, his relief was replaced by his stored rage and immediately, he grabbed Paris's arm and started dragging him from the bed.

"You are coming home with me this instant!" Hector bellowed.

"But Oprah's still talking!" Paris protested, his eyes still glued to the screen of the tv.

"Well, she can stop!" Hector retorted and pointed a finger at Helen. "And you're coming along too."

Paris brightened. "Can we sit next to each other?"

IN HECTOR'S CAR-

Hector parked in front of the café and turned around to look a sullen Paris and a bored Helen in the face.

"Now look here," Hector said sternly. "When you get in there, you will have nothing to do with each other. If either of you mention plans of eloping, I'll...I'll..."

"You'll do what?" Paris challenged. "Pour boiling coffee down my throat?"

Hector rolled his eyes. "No, I'll personally see to it that you two never set eyes on each other ever again."

A sharp gasp was torn out of both Paris's and Helen's throats.

"And your husband who's waiting just inside that café will help me do just that," Hector confirmed.

Helen crossed her arms. "Then, I'm not going in there."

Hector laughed a dry, humorless laugh and just like he would pick up a small child, he picked up Helen and pried her fingers away from the seatbelt. With Paris following, Hector walked into the coffeehouse, cringing as Helen beat her fists furiously at his back.

"Darling!" Menelaus cried as he approached her. Helen practically snarled at him. Stepping back quickly with an amused smile, he cooed,

"There there sweet one."

And he continued the list with names like honeypot and creamcake.

Andromache shuddered.

"No wonder Helen doesn't like him," she whispered to Hector. "Who would call their wife creamcake?"

Hector glanced at her in puzzlement and rubbing her shoulders, asked,

"But I thought that you liked the name creamcake, jellybun."

"Anyway, thank you," Menelaus yelled over his shoulder to Hector. "I'll make sure that your debt is taken away permanently."

Hector was beaming as bright as a lighthouse now, but he didn't notice Paris looking at Helen in a longing, desperate way.

"Meet me at the boutique," he mouthed before disappearing upstairs.

"Come on, _lover_," Menelaus murmured to Helen, putting his arm around her and walking her away.

Later, that evening, Hector woke up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. Without know why, he opened the door to Paris's room and in horror, found the bed empty. And in the room across, Briseis's bed was also empty.


	12. Runaway

RUNAWAY-

Hector stood in the doorway of Paris's bedroom and gazed at the empty bed in shock. Instead of Paris, a gigantic Tellytubby toy was dozing beneath the covers.

For a moment, Hector considered calling the police to tell them that a mad womanizer was on the loose, but then as he looked down on the ground, he realized that he could probably catch that mad womanizer himself.

Lying on the ground was a brochure listing all the departure times of trains at Aegean Station and the time 12:30 am had been circled in pink gel pen.

Hector looked at his watch quickly. 12:10. There was still enough time. And Hector was walking out of the front door when Andromache's voice stopped him.

"Hector, where are you going?" she asked softly, standing right behind him.

"To get Paris once and for all," he replied shortly.

Andromache looked at him, concerned, and then whispered,

"You're going outside in your pajamas? At least, don't wear that one with those bananas all over it."

Hector looked down at his bright canary yellow pajamas. "But I thought that you liked this one."

Andromached gave a weak laugh. "Of course, Hector, every wife's dream is for their husband to appear in pajamas with bananas all over them."

She smiled at the bewildered look on his face and placing a kiss on his cheek, turned around to go back to bed. But Andromache had her secrets as well because as she lay down on the bed, she rubbed her belly and she swore that she could feel the slightest kick.

AEGEAN STATION-

After ten minutes without on sign of Paris, Helen's hope had begun to fade. _'You have to come, Paris,' she thought desperately. 'You can't just leave me to a man who calls me creamcake!'_

And as if Paris had heard her, he got out of a gold Toyota that had just driven into the parking lot. As Paris neared her, Helen called out,

"I didn't know that you had a car!"

Paris looked confused. "What car?"

Helen pointed at the Toyota. "The one you just came out of!"

"Oh, _that_ car!" Paris grinned sheepishly. "Uh, that's not my car, it's Hector's."

Just then, Briseis climbed out of the Toyota's driver seat.

"Paris," she said his name viciously, elbowing him in the stomach. "Made me steal the car so Hector wouldn't have anything to catch up to us."

"But, Briseis, why isn't Paris driving?" Helen asked as they walked to the train stops.

Briseis laughed. "Cause he has no idea how to."

Paris blushed a deep crimson. "Of course I can drive!" he sputtered with indignation.

"Oh sure," Briseis muttered. "You have a skill for driving straight into trees!"

As they waited for the train, Paris turned to Helen and whispered,

"We can leave this place forever and live in the wild. I could hunt deer and maybe even catch a squirrel!"

Helen gave a weird look. "You're kidding right?"

Paris thought about what he had just said. "Ah, whom am I kidding?" he muttered.

"Good," Helen said. "Cause I am not going to be living off squirrel."

They watched people struggle to load 9 suitcases onto the train.

"Who would that crazy to bring that many suitcases?" Briseis wondered out loud.

"So you think I'm crazy?" Helen demanded.

She waved her hand at the suitcases and imperiously explained,

"Every woman needs to bring 3 for clothes, 3 for makeup, and 3 for money. Everyone knows that."

Above them, the clock struck 12:30 and another train slowed to a stop before them. At the same time, a certain enraged big brother stepped out of a taxi behind them. Turning around carelessly, Paris's eyes suddenly widened dramatically and he tapped Briseis on the shoulder.

"What..." she began and then gasped at the sight of Hector.

"We are so dead," the two cousins squeaked in unison.

Paris glanced back at the train and luckily, the door slid open. Grabbing Briseis's and Helen's hands, he pulled them toward the train with Hector following. They dashed in just in time, crashing against a wall and sighing with relief.

But then, they realized that Hector too was inside the train. Grinning like an evil madman, Hector stepped toward them menacingly and then, he stopped in his tracks. The door slid shut and the train had begun moving, moving away from the station. Hector flew to the window and banging on the glass, shouted,

"Let me out!"

'_This is bad, this is very bad!'_ Hector thought, frantic. _'When Menelaus finds out that Helen is gone and that she left with Paris, he'll discover that I'm on the same train with them! And then, he'll think that I helped Paris persuade Helen to elope!' _

Hector turned around, regaining calm, and faced the people to blame.

"You are so dead."

LARYSSA LANE (Half an hour earlier)-

Achilles had not expected a phone call from Agamemnon in the middle of the night. He had not wanted to pick the ringing phone up, but he did automatically anyway.

After he listened to Agamemnon's oily voice drone on and on for exactly five minutes, Achilles interrupted him,

"Tell me. Why should I help your brother get his trophy wife back?"

Agamemnon chuckled. "I thought that you wanted a name in the underworld. I thought that you wanted to be a known hitman."

"I'm listening."

"If you bring back Helen and help me destroy Café Troy," Agamemnon whispered. "I will make sure that every underworld lord is begging for your skills."

"Deal."

And a short drive later, Achilles too was sitting on the same train as Hector, Paris, Helen, and Briseis.


	13. Vanished

VANISHED-

"Helen is going back to her husband!" Hector hissed. "And since I'm the oldest and you're living off my money, my word is law!"

For once, Paris persisted and argued,

"I could make my own living to take care of her!"

Hector scoffed. "A buck an hour doesn't qualify as a living, Paris."

Helen suddenly jumped up from her seat between them.

"Don't I have a say in this?" she demanded.

"NO!" Hector and Paris both retorted in unison, glaring across her head at each other.

Helen looked taken aback at first. Then, she made a 'humph!' sound and stormed off, feeding her own blazing anger. Immediately, Paris rushed after her, pleading for forgiveness, declaring his own guilt.

A loud ring spilt the awkward silence left behind and Hector fumbled for his cellphone.

Menelaus's infuriated voice greeted him.

"Helen's gone!" Menelaus cried. "Again!"

"Really?" Hector questioned as innocently as he could.

"Yes, really!" Menelaus said crossly. "Tell me, Hector, why is your wife always by your side and my wife always running off? Tell me the truth: Am I a bad husband?"

"Um...well," Hector struggled to think up a good lie. "You're a terrific husband! It's just that...you're too good for Helen! Forget about her! You deserve better!"

"I know," Menelaus muttered. "I mean, sure, I drink, I lie, and I cheat sometimes, but isn't that what every husband does?"

'_Yeah, if you learned from a "How to be a Good Husband for Dummies" book,' _Hector thought, almost pitying Menelaus.

"By the way, Andromache called to ask if I knew where you were," Menelaus said out of the blue. "Are you running away from your wife?"

Hector paled and snatched a newspaper from the guy who sat next to him. Crumpling it up right next to the phone, Hector yelled,

"Menelaus, I can't hear you! There's a lot of static...I'm losing...contact..."

Quickly, Hector ended the call and with a foolish smile, handed the newspaper back to the guy.

"Sorry," he laughed meekly.

Narrowed, icy blue eyes met his. Smoothing back his long hair that had golden highlights, the man slowly smiled, a smile that had the look of a well-fed pussycat. Hector was reminded of L'oreal Hair Shampoo model.

"Forgiven," the man said generously and held out a hand.

"Thanks," Hector replied uncertainly, taking the hand and shaking it. He felt calluses over the rough skin. "What's your name?"

"Achilles," the man responded. "And yours?"

"Hector," Hector said, wondering when Achilles would let go of his hand. The man's iron grip was straining.

And Achilles did let go, but not before smirking as if the pussycat had just caught a mouse.

Half an hour later, Paris came running back, his face flushed and worried.

"Helen's gone!" he blurted out frantically.

"Gone?" Hector exclaimed. "She eloped without a guy?"

Paris shrugged and panting, began to tell what happened.

"After she forgave me, she told me that she was going to the bathroom to freshen up because her makeup was all smeared," Paris recalled. "But she never came out!"

Hector gasped.

"So I went inside to look," Paris murmured.

Briseis cringed. "Oh, you poor baby! What did they do to you?"

Paris showed her the swelling bruises on his arms. "A whole horde of overweight grandmas attacked me with their umbrellas."

"Then," Paris continued. "I started searching for Helen all over the place, but she's gone! She's just vanished!"

Briseis bit her lip. Great. Now, they had sunk even deeper into this mess. As she sank into the seat, she heard a crumpling of paper under her. She was sitting on a newspaper that spidery words scribbled onto it.

_**If you want Helen, be at the Spartan Courthouse at 6:00 today. All of you.**_

_**P.S. Briseis, I expect that you still remember your last visit to the Courthouse. **_

_**Achilles**_


	14. At the Courthouse

AT THE COURTHOUSE

Hector reread the note again. 'Who the heck was Achilles?' he wondered. 'Some lowlife slave of Agamemnon's illegal empire?'

"Briseis," Hector said slowly, his eyes focusing on hers. "Do you know this person?"

For a moment, Briseis considered lying and saying that this guy was probably some psycho and that Helen was still stuck in the bathroom because it took her ten hours to apply makeup. But Paris looked desperate and Hector would know.

"Yes, I know him," she muttered. "He's that guy who sued me."

Hector wrinkled his forehead. "You think that he kidnapped Helen cause of a grudge against you?"

Briseis shrugged. "All I did was give him a good bonk on the head. Believe me, his ego needed it."

Paris let out a frustrated sigh and wringing his hands, hissed, "But what about Helen? My precious?!"

Hector racked his brain. What about Helen?

"Do we really have to go and get her?" Hector questioned. "She's kinda a lot of trouble."

"YES!" Paris insisted with such vehemence that Hector backed off.

Proving that he did indeed could think, Paris explained his plan. Get off the train at the next stop and buy another train ticket back to their home. Then, drive like the devil himself was chasing you to the Spartan Courthouse. There, they would do whatever it took to get Helen back.

"That's your plan?" Hector demanded. "By the time we get there, Helen will probably have escaped on her own."

"Do you have a better one?" Paris challenged, his eyes gleaming with an unfamiliar fire. "Besides, I've already told Helen that in the case of an emergency kidnapping, she is to do whatever her kidnapper says and she is to wait for me to rescue her."

Hector snorted. Great, his little brother had just become a knight in shining armor.

HOURS LATER

They were sitting in Hector's car, driving toward the Spartan Courthouse. Paris was fretting, Briseis was bored, and Hector was fuming about how he had just spent $210 on three train tickets that had taken them to nowhere and back again.

"Sooooo," Briseis said, breaking the buzzing silence. "We're just going to charge in there and demand Helen back?"

"That's the only way I can think of," Paris admitted.

"Then you realize that you're going to be basically committing suicide, right?" Briseis asked. "The Greeks inside that Courthouse tear people apart."

Hector drove into parking lot which was empty except for three other cars, two limos and one sleek Mercedes. As they got out of the car, Hector grabbed Briseis by the hand and said sternly,

"Not you. You've already been in too much trouble for the day."

Briseis protested. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Hector tossed her the keys. "Watch the car. If I don't come back, you can keep the car for your next birthday."

"But you will," Briseis insisted. "They can't do anything to you! You didn't commit any crime!"

Hector smiled stiffly and marched away. '_I've lied to my boss and helped my brother steal away another man's wife,'_ Hector mused._ 'If that wasn't a crime, then what is? Agamemnon won't care. He'll find a way to make me look guilty.'_

Hector was now too sure that this was one of Agamemnon's plots and this was one that would probably succeed. He was sure that behind the Courthouse's imposing pillars waited lions ready for the kill.

Paris and Hector climbed up the endless set of marble stairs, wondering what awaited them. After a stony silence, Paris started panting and said,

"Hector, you're the best brother anyone could ever have."

Hector looked quizzically at Paris and asked,

"Why are you saying this now? You sound like I'm going to die or something."

"Exactly," Paris said, slapping him on the back. "That's what people always say to the big brother who sacrifices himself to save everyone in the movies."

Hector was about to growl that he wasn't going to die when they both heard a familiar, blood-chilling shriek.

"PARIS!"

It was Helen for sure.

Hector and Paris rapidly skipped up the stairs two at a time as if they were made of hot coals. Dashing into the building, they scanned the area. The main lobby was dark and empty, cold and dead quiet. The only sound came from the splash of the stone fountain at the center of the room. There was a solid gold statue of some sort god figure in the fountain holding a gigantic bow with a fitted arrow that pointed at them.

And then, the head of that god statue came flying off, soaring through the air like a cannonball. It fell at the feet of Hector and Paris, the gold dented and pushed inward. The neck had been very neatly severed.

They looked up to see the same guy on the train, Mr. L'oreal Shampoo Model himself. Hector presumed that this could only be Achilles. At least, Hector could understand why this snob had sued Briseis. If Hector had hair like that and some girl had messed it up by dropping something on it, he would've sued Briseis too.

Achilles had swung from behind the statue to the front where they could see him in the clear glow of moonlight. His features looked sinister, his lips frozen in sneer. He held a sword from who knew where in one hand and a loaded pistol in the other.

At that same moment, Hector heard Agamemnon's voice right behind him and he knew they were in deep, deep trouble.


	15. TwoFaced

TWO-FACED-

"Well, well," Agamemnon's honey-sweet voice oozed. "What are you doing here at this time of night, Hector, my good friend?"

There really would be no point in lying now since Agamemnon probably knew about everything. However, to simply admit that they had stolen Helen would be the same as committing suicide. They would have to be subtle, and tread carefully on the delicate grounds on which they now stood.

"That was the same question I was going to ask you," Hector spoke slowly, buying time and trying to desperately send mind waves to Paris to act subtle.

Paris, however, did not seem to have the telekinetic gift.

"I came here for Helen," he shouted and stepping forward like a brave and foolish knight would do to rescue the damsel in distress.

Hector wanted to throttle him.

"What he means is that once we heard that Helen was missing again," Hector corrected quickly, throwing Paris a cautioning glare. "We decided to help Menelaus look for her."

And seeing Paris open his big, fat mouth again, Hector clapped a hand over Paris's face and pushed his brother behind himself.

"Really?" Agamemnon asked, wrinkling his forehead and giving the impression of a thinking pig.

"So why did you come here?" Agamemnon questioned, using the voice of a concerned parent.

Hector fumbled for an answer.

"I...I, I discovered that he stole your wife!" Hector exclaimed, hoping that his pathetic inspiration would work. He waved his hand at Achilles who now looked amused.

"In fact," Hector said, pulling out his cellphone. "I'm going to call Menelaus and tell him about this wife-snatcher right now since who knows whose wife he'll steal next? My wife or maybe even yours."

Under his breath, Achilles muttered, "Don't bother, Trojan. The day I go within ten feet of Agamemnon's shrew is the day I turn ugly."

Agamemnon narrowed his eyes and pulled out his own cellphone. His thick, sausage resembling fingers scrambled to dial.

And somewhere, a phone began to ring.

MENELAUS'S ESTATE

Menelaus was sitting at his desk, pouring over a phone book and considering hiring a private detective to track down Helen. 'Who knows what has happened to her?' he thought in fear. 'She doesn't even have her credit card with her!'

Just then, his cellphone rang and began playing the Beatles' 'Yesterday.' Menelaus closed his eyes and remembered how he had sung it at Helen's and his wedding. His imitation had been so good that Helen had burst into tears and ran from the room so the guests wouldn't have to see her mascara running down her face. She had loved that song so much that she had given away their Beatles cd so the world could have the joy she felt.

Sighing and savoring the nostalgia, Menelaus picked up the phone.

Two screaming voices hit his ears at once.

"Achilles stole her!"

"Paris stole her!"

It was Agamemnon and Hector and they were both babbling on about some kidnapped woman.

"Who are you talking about?" Menelaus asked blankly.

"Helen!" the two men roared back.

Menelaus held the phone a good few inches away from his ear and said,

"Hold on! Now Hector, what did you say about Helen?"

"No fair," Agamemnon's spoiled-brat voice whined. "Why does he get to go first?"

"This world isn't fair, brother," Menelaus explained wisely. "My wife runs away and Hector's doesn't. Is that fair? I mean, how better of a husband could he be?"

Hector wanted to retort, 'How dare you insult my skill as a good husband?' but decided against it.

Hector began making up his defense, telling about how much of a playboy Achilles was and how the man lusted after every woman he saw.

"Now you're describing Agamemnon," Achilles muttered dryly.

Ignoring him, Hector continued and told Menelaus how he had seen Achilles on a train with a struggling Helen.

"I even have a witness," Hector declared triumphantly, tossing Agamemnon a look that clearly said loser.

"Other than Paris?"

"Other than Paris," Hector assured him and mouthed for Paris to get Briseis.

Briseis appeared soon and grabbed for her chance at revenge.

"Oh yes, I saw him," Briseis confirmed. "He was holding your wife very tightly and his hands weren't being very gentle. When she started protesting and ranting about how you would kill him, he kissed her on the mouth."

Hector grabbed the phone from her, muttering,

"Enough with the graphic details."

Behind them, Achilles had had enough. He was not going to wait here for Agamemnon to sacrifice him. Scanning the area, Achilles considered a victim and as he heard that sweet, true voice say, "he kissed her on the mouth," Achilles knew just which one to take.


	16. Kidnapped!

KIDNAPPED!-

"So who do you believe?" Agamemnon demanded, as soon as he had finished telling his side of the story. "His story or mines?"

"Well..." Menelaus pondered, reluctant to tell Agamemnon that he believed Hector's story more.

Agamemnon decided to play the big brother card.

"Don't tell me that you don't believe your own brother!" he gasped. "Your own brother who has been there by your side always?"

"Not always," Menelaus replied crossly. "And do you mean to say that I have to depend on you to live? Is that what you're saying?"

Agamemnon was at a loss for words. Menelaus had never dared to speak to him like that.

"Hector, I want to speak to your cousin," Menelaus barked.

Hector smiled and turned to beckon Briseis. Except she wasn't there.

Hector's eyes widened. She had just been standing there a second ago. Covering the phone, he called her name once, twice, and then three times. A sudden feeling of heavy dread grew in Hector's chest as he noticed that Achilles too was gone.

"Hector?" Menelaus's voice asked from the phone.

Hector ended the call and turning stiffly to Paris, said,

"Let's go."

"But what about Helen?" Paris squealed. "We can't just let her stay here with him!"

"Who matters more to you?" Hector demanded, exasperated. "Your cousin or your current fling?"

"She's not my current fling!" Paris shouted. "I love her!"

Even Agamemnon threw Paris a doubtful look. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really!" Paris cried. "I'm not leaving without Helen!"

"But Briseis has been kidnapped!" Hector sputtered. "By that L'oreal shampoo model!"

Paris blinked. "Briseis was kidnapped? When?"

He looked around and gave a gasp. "Oh my gosh! She's gone!"

Hector thought about banging his head on the wall.

Finally, he said through gritted teeth,

"Fine, we'll get Helen and then, we go find Briseis, ok?"

Hector did not like this plan at all. Who knew what that Achilles would do to her?

'_How could I have forgotten about her?'_ he wondered. _'How could I have forgotten that he was standing only two feet away from her? How could I have forgotten what a monster he was? How could I have left her unprotected against him?'_

Engrossed in his regretful thoughts, Hector did not notice Agamemnon slip a hand into his fur coat and pull out a small, black pistol.

"To get to Helen," Agamemnon said, smiling and raising the pistol to aim for Paris's forehead. "You'll need to get past me first."

IN ACHILLES' CAR

Briseis wasn't exactly in a most comfortable position. Who would be if they were tied up and gagged in the back seat of a very dangerous and deranged madman? She squirmed, trying to let the tightly tied ropes around her lithe body slide off. Never had she dreamed of being kidnapped. In her mind, there had always been a safe, sheltered world around her. There had always been Hector and Paris (who wasn't very useful, but his presence was at least assuring).

'_I fooled myself,'_ she thought. _'I've been protected too long.'_

When you hear all those stories about kidnappings, it's like a sad fairy tale. You can feel sympathetic, but you think of it as a fairy tale and you reassure yourself that it will never happen to yourself because you're normal. You tell yourself that normal people aren't kidnapped and what a lie that was!

Achilles wasn't paying her struggling the least bit of attention. He finally turned sharply into a stretched out driveway that led to a building that resembled an Italian villa. It was all like a one-story ranch made of creamy columns and a flat roof. Two huge, black pots stood on either side of the doorway with long, leafy plants flowering out of them.

As she stared at Achilles' home, she felt that slight tinge of nostalgia. And she suddenly longed for their old home, a large, comfy ranch. She wanted to lie down on soft, green grass again and she wanted to be able to walk around a home without a serving tray and a waitress's nametag.

'_I hate where we live now,'_ she thought bitterly. _'I hate Café Troy!'_

Why had Hector traded their perfect home for the café?

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Achilles flung open her door and ordered,

"Get out of the car."

She started to yell back a retort, but her gag allowed only muffled shrieks. Achilles watched, amused for a moment, and then tore out her gag.

"I obviously can't get out while I'm tied down!" she screamed furiously.

Sighing, he bent over to untie her only to have her bounce away from him.

"Do you want to sleep in the car tonight?" Achilles demanded and his hand dug into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife.

Her eyes focused on the blade's sharp gleam and she froze. Achilles cut her ropes curtly and then strode toward the villa. Sitting in the pile of shredded rope, Briseis was still frozen, unsure of whether to run or follow.

'_He's not even watching me,'_ she told herself. _'I could easily run off.'_

And taking one last glance at his back, she fled out of the car and from the villa. She ran as fast she could, glancing back to make sure there was no golden-haired kidnapper after her. She had almost reached the gate at the end of the quarter-mile driveway when the gates slammed shut before her. Gripping the gates and helplessly shaking the long iron bars, she knew that it was a dead end for her.

And suddenly, something, hard and heavy, smashed into the back of her head and she toppled to the ground, her vision black.

And Achilles who stood behind her, regretted that action. Then, he slowly bent down to pick her up and carried her into his house.


	17. Dinner With My Kidnapper

DINNER WITH MY KIDNAPPER-

Both Hector and Paris froze, stunned at the sight of a gun pointed at them.

'_Maybe this is a dream,'_ Hector thought, dazed. _'Or maybe it's one of those hidden camera shows.'_

Paris however, opened his big, fat mouth and yelled, "I bet that you don't even know how to shoot a gun!"

Agamemnon's squinty eyes narrowed even more until they became just two black dots sunken in globs of pockmarked skin.

"I suggest that you shut your mouth, boy," he growled. "Before I show you how I shoot a gun."

In a brash manner, Paris swaggered around Agamemnon slowly and said, "Prove it then. Shoot me."

Paris threw up his hands and taunted him. "I give up! Shoot me! Or are you more mouse than man? No, you're probably more pig than man!"

Agamemnon spun around to face Paris who was nearly behind him and fired his revolver over Paris's shoulder as a clear warning. Unfortunately, he had forgotten about Hector. Hector charged and tackled Agamemnon to the ground, knocking the gun out of his hands and pinning his arms under his stomach. Squirming like an earthquake, Agamemnon gave a huge roar like an enraged lion and threw Hector off.

He started to scramble for the gun when one slender, white hand snatched it from him and used it to give a good, hard blow to his temple. Agamemnon gazed up to see Helen, trembling, but determined. And then, the pointed tip of black leather boot came swinging into view and smacked right into his forehead.

Agamemnon slumped to the ground with a throbbing, red welt blooming on his forehead.

"Go you, babe!" Paris cheered.

Helen looked astounded at what she had done, but managed to summon up one meek smile.

"We have to go find Briseis now!" Hector said and started to head for their car.

"Hold on," Helen interrupted and produced a tube of rich crimson lipstick. "I need my own revenge first."

She bent down and drew hearts all over Agamemnon's face before smearing the lipstick all over his mouth. Grimacing at the sight of her ruined lipstick, she then stuck it into Agamemnon's mouth, jamming it in.

"Good idea," Hector approved. "But he won't be very happy to see his new makeover when he wakes up."

And then, they jumped into the car, praying that they would somehow find Briseis soon.

ACHILLES'S HOME

Briseis blinked, sitting up quickly to find herself lying on a thick Persian carpet in the middle of big, comfy room.

"Finally!"

She turned to see Achilles standing in the doorway.

"I thought that you were never going to wake up," he said and impatiently told her to get off the floor.

"You were the one who hit me on purpose and made me black out!" she accused.

He was amused. "Call it payback for hitting me with an answer machine."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he raised a finger to her lips and whispered,

"You can argue whatever you want after dinner."

'_Dinner?'_ she wondered, following him into a brightly lighted dining room the size of a bowling alley. _'He's going to feed me?'_

In the center of the room stood a long table that could seat at least 14 people. But at the moment, there were only 4 available seats, two already filled by an elderly, elegant woman and a teenager that looked like a younger version of Achilles. Both stared at her curiously as if she were some foreign zoo animal for all to observe.

Achilles sat at one end of the table and then, they all looked at her expectantly.

"Aren't you going to sit down?" Achilles asked impatiently. "Or do you prefer to eat standing up?"

"I prefer to eat with my family in my home!" she retorted, bristling at how he treated her like an imbecile. "And I usually don't dine with kidnappers!"

The elderly woman looked at Achilles with a twinkle in her eye. "My son, since when have you needed to abduct your companions?"

Briseis flushed, and wondered how such a regal woman was Achilles' mother.

"I'm not his companion," Briseis said politely. "Your son kidnapped me and I would very much like to go home now."

"And of course you shall!" the woman exclaimed. "But you must be hungry. Please, at least eat with us before you depart."

It sounded more like a command and Briseis obeyed, sitting down in a chair and waiting for the food to come. She was not surprised to see two butlers arrive to serve them. There was no doubt that Achilles was rich and a total snob about it.

As she stared down at her soup, she wondered if it was poisoned. _'The most stylish way of killing your captives,'_ she laughed in her mind. _'Invite them for a nice dinner and poison them during dessert!'_

"You haven't introduced yourself yet, dear," the woman said gently. "I am Thetis, Achilles' mother."

She waved her hand at the younger teenager to her right. "And that is my beloved nephew, Patroclus."

Briseis hesitated before giving her name.

Seeing that Briseis had not touched her food, Patroclus asked bluntly, "Why aren't you eating?"

"Don't worry, cousin," Achilles smirked. "Briseis is always paranoid."

Gasping, Briseis jumped up and flung her heavy silver soup spoon at him without thinking. In horror, she watched it fly at him, but amazingly, Achilles caught it in midair, laughing. He twirled the spoon in his hands and reassured Patroclus who had been gaping in fear.

"Briseis has a very bad temper," he informed them. "In fact, she was the one who tried to give me a concussion by dropping an answer machine on my head."

Briseis had had enough. She stormed away from the table and began to head for the door when Achilles blocked her.

"Is this how you repay my hospitality?" he demanded. "No matter what my mother thinks, you are still kidnapped so you will sit through the rest of dinner like a good girl."

Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her back into the dining room and she plunked down into her chair. _'He may have won the battle, but the war is not over.'_


	18. Mistaken and Misunderstood

MISTAKEN AND MISUNDERSTOOD-

It was a dark and stormy night when three people were huddled close together in a lone phone booth. The tallest was flipping through a phone book, hoping to find a number listed by the name, Achilles.

"You're expecting to actually find Achilles' number among millions of others?" Paris asked his brother doubtfully.

"How many people could actually be named Achilles?" Hector demanded. "What kind of weird, eccentric mother would name her child that?"

Paris looked down at the open page Hector was scanning. "Well, there must be a lot of weird, eccentric mothers in this city."

"This one!" Helen pointed a well-manicured finger. "I've been to his home at Larisa Lane."

Hector dialed the number and waited fretfully.

1 LARISA LANE, THE HOUSE OF ACHILLES

"I'll get it!" Briseis volunteered before the phone's first ring had finished. She was willing to do anything to get as far away as she could from Achilles.

She snatched up the phone and hesitantly whispered, "Hello?"

"Briseis?" a familiar voice questioned in disbelief.

"Hector!" Briseis urgently began babbling. "You have to get me out of here. This guy is really scary. First, he hits me unconscious over the head. Then, he invites me to have dinner with his family and I tell his mom that he kidnapped me and she smiled!"

'I never knew Briseis could say so many words in a minute,' was Hector's first thought. 'She sounds more like a mad chipmunk than a person.'

"Don't worry!" Hector assured her. "We're coming. Just tell them that you have to go to the bathroom and if you can't get out the front door, then just climb out of a window."

"Okay," Briseis reluctantly hanged up and turned around to face two amused eyes bluer than the morning sky on a cloudless day.

"Did you really imagine that climbing out of a window would let you escape from me?" Achilles inquired, his tone mild as if casually chatting with a friend.

"It doesn't matter," Briseis boldly stepped toward him. "My cousins' are coming for me and I'll be out of your house by bedtime."

'Bedtime?' Achilles wondered. 'What is she? Five?'

"Yes, your cousins' are coming," Achilles nodded, satisfied. "And when Hector comes, he will pay for telling Menelaus such a pathetic lie."

Briseis backed away and darted for the front door. Surprisingly, it wasn't bolted shut like she expected it to be and she easily opened it, ready to dash outside. The only obstacle in her way was a massive mountain of a human with a perfectly rounded potbelly and a stench of thick sweat and rotten sweetness. The man's face had been carefully applied with bright red eye shadow, rouge, and lipstick. The graying masses of hair on his head reached the short skirt under his night-robe.

Briseis stared. She had always heard of such things, but she had never really met a cross-dresser.

"Being a woman doesn't suit you," was all she could say.

Then quickly, she tried to slam the door against his belly that stood out the same way a camel's hump did.

"I agree with the girl, Agamemnon," Achilles said, a sudden smile on his lips. "Of all the queer things you've done, this is the queerest of them all and you've done a lot of strange things."

'Agamemnon?' Briseis thought blankly. 'That couldn't be…'

"I suggest that you stop your snickering, Achilles," Agamemnon growled, pushing Briseis out of the way and entering. "You'd be a fool if you think I did this to myself."

"Then who did it?" Achilles questioned, his eyes gleaming in triumph to see Agamemnon in such humiliation. "Your shrew or your whore?"

"What about my wife?" Agamemnon demanded.

"Your shrew is your wife," Achilles answered simply.

Agamemnon's eyes narrowed and he muttered, "I swear to Zeus that I will dye Achilles' hair green one day. Then let's see if he still flaunts himself like a peacock."

Agamemnon's eyes caught sight of the girl who was edging slowly for the door. His meaty hand gripped her wrist and pulled her back. 'Hector's cousin,' he recognized. 'Perfect. Hector will pay dearly for making a fool of Agamemnon.'

"Release her, Agamemnon," Achilles said, his tone suddenly hostile. "She's not yours."

"Well, she's certainly not yours," Agamemnon replied smoothly. "If you haven't noticed, she was trying to get away from _you_."

'No, I'm trying to get away from both of you,' Briseis thought as she slipped out of Agamemnon's hold and ran out. Achilles' driveway was a long one and she was already panting by the time she got to the end of it. A long black car suddenly pulled up and she knocked on the window desperately. The black glass smoothly sank down and a man dressed in a very stiff suit looked at her with concerned eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but I really need a drive away from here," Briseis pleaded.

The man looked reluctant and looked down at his cell phone before saying, "Fine, get in, but you have to explain yourself, young lady."

"Sure," Briseis nodded and opened the back door.

As she finally relaxed in the black leather seats, she looked out of the back window and gladly noticed that they were driving farther and farther away from the house of Achilles. Then, she wondered why she had just so happily stepped into a stranger's car. Hadn't Hector always told her since she was toddler not to ever do so?

"You know, you can just let me out here," Briseis told the driver.

"You know, I would," the driver replied. "But my boss told me not to."

"Who's your boss?" Briseis asked, nervous again.

"Oh, you know," the driver said nonchalantly. "That man you called a woman, Agamemnon."


	19. The Starting Fire

THE STARTING FIRE-

"You blind fool!" Achilles cursed as Briseis fled out the door.

"You just let her slip out like that?" he demanded incredulously as he swiftly followed.

"She was very slippery," Agamemnon panted as he struggled to keep up with Achilles. "Like a fish with very nice curves…"

"Shut up!" Achilles barked.

As they came to the end of the driveway, a car suddenly sped off, but Achilles spotted the face that looked back at him in the window. Achilles stared at the shrinking figure of the car for a moment and then said, "I'm going after them."

Agamemnon threw up his hands. "And you're calling me a fool? She's not worth the trouble. Now, if you would just think for a moment, how about helping me…"

Achilles' red Ferrari had already zoomed for the horizon and Agamemnon smiled. He had known that Achilles would act like that. He reached into his pocket for his vibrating cell phone.

"Calchas," Agamemnon answered the phone. "Mr. Superman is off on pursuit. I want you to take the girl to my brother. Then let's see if she can still stick to Hector's lie."

"Copy that," Calchas replied.

"Copy that what?" Agamemnon demanded.

"Copy that sir?" the confused voice ventured.

"No!" Agamemnon stomped his foot. "My codename is Suave Big Man, remember that."

"Will do, uh…Suave Big Man," Calchas stammered. Well, at least the Big Man part fit.

HOUSE OF ACHILLES –

"Ok," Hector whispered as he stood on the doorstep of Achilles' home. "Plan A is that Helen disguises herself as a hooker and says that she's a gift from Agamemnon so she can get inside the house. Plan B is that Paris dresses up as an executive from L'oreal Shampoo telling Achilles that he's been hired as a model. Plan C is that we simply break down the door and take Briseis back by force."

"I like Plan C," Paris decided.

The two brothers backed away and then rammed up against the door, slamming their whole body weight against the wood. The only problem was that Paris had used his head to collide into the door.

Inside, Patroclus had heard someone knocking so he opened the door to be greeted by a young man with dark curls that immediately smiled and said,

"Hello! My name is Spooky, Spooky Doo!"

Once that was finished, he threw back his head and guffawed.

An older man pushed 'Spooky Doo' aside and demanded, "Where is Achilles?"

"Who wants to know?" Patroclus demanded right back.

"The name's Hector," Hector growled. "Now where is Achilles? I've got a score to settle with him."

All his life, Patroclus had dreamed of being as renowned of a hit man as his older cousin. This, he decided, was his chance.

"You're looking at him," Patroclus answered, imitating Achilles' cold voice laced with scorn.

"Achilles?" Hector gaped. "You must use some really good anti-aging cream! Hey, I use Botox, but it's not exactly working for me…"

"Did you come here for a battle, or to chatter about cosmetics?" Patroclus interrupted, his eyes taunting, hiding the excitement about a chance to prove himself.

"To fight of course," Hector turned back into his usual brooding self. He stepped into the house and slowly; Patroclus and him circled the other. Then, Patroclus lunged forward and shoved Hector into the den where he knew there was at least the loaded hunting rifle hanging on the wall.

Hector pulled Patroclus into head-lock though and squeezing his arm around the boy's neck, yelled, "Say uncle and tell me where my cousin is, you cousin-thief!"

"I don't know where your damn cousin is," Patroclus yelled back, puzzled.

"Liar," Hector hissed and grabbing a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the coffee table, stuffed it into Patroclus' mouth. The boy spit out many, but he could feel a few not chewed peanuts push their way down through his throat. He was choking now, gasping for air and Hector quickly let go of the boy in fear.

"I'm sorry" Hector told the boy. "I am so sorry, just please don't die on me or anything!"

The boy spat out a peanut at Hector's eye. "I'm not really Achilles," he muttered in a hoarse voice. "And I'm allergic to peanuts."

With that, the boy who was not Achilles, fell unconscious.

At that moment, Thetis entered the room and took in the scene with her old blue eyes.

"Patroclus," she whispered and sank down to grab the boy's hand, feeling for pulse, which was still there.

Then, she looked at Hector and Paris who smiled at her and cheerfully stated, "Hello, my name is Spooky, Spooky Doo!"

Thetis screamed.

And Hector quickly pushed Paris out the front door and fled.

ACHILLES' CAR-

Impatiently, Achilles answered his cell phone. It was his mother.

"Patroclus is unconscious!" she whispered, her voice unsteady.

Achilles slammed down on the brake. "How? When?"

"I don't know," his mother responded. "But I heard some yells from the den and when I got there, a man with dark hair and a beard was beside Patroclus. I think the man gave him peanuts and you know about his allergies!"

'Hector, it could only be Hector,' Achilles thought in rage. "Take Patroclus to the hospital and I'll meet you there as soon as I get something done."

He forgot about Briseis and changed directions for Café Troy. Hector would pay…dearly.

CAFÉ TROY-

Andromache was just closing the café when she caught the first whiff of the heavy, choking smell. The smell of smoke.

'What in the world?' she wondered and started toward the front door except it was already engulfed by red flames. In horror, she looked out the window and just could barely see the golden-haired man that stared back at her.


End file.
